


Windfall

by Rheanna



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, Season/Series 01, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-31
Updated: 2008-03-31
Packaged: 2017-10-05 08:26:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rheanna/pseuds/Rheanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A taste of home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Windfall

**Author's Note:**

> Commentfic for monanotlisa.

"Major, what are you doing?" Rodney says, aghast. "Don't do that! You could die!"

It's too late; Sheppard has already taken a bite out of the fruit he just picked up off the ground. He chews and swallows and then grins broadly and says, "It's an apple, McKay. See how non-lethal it is? How non-lethal and apple-y?"

"The nearest honest-to-God apple is a whole galaxy away," Rodney reminds him. "Whatever that is, it's not an apple. It could be pure poison, for all you know."

"If it looks like an apple, smells like an apple and tastes like an apple," Sheppard says stubbornly, "then I'm calling it an apple."

He holds the fruit up, challenging Rodney to deny its innate appleness. Rodney has to admit he has a point. The fruit's peel has a smooth green sheen which is almost waxy, and a chunk of the crisp white interior has been exposed where Sheppard bit into it. The scent is sharp and clean, and Rodney's mouth waters, just a little. He hasn't had an apple since -- he can't remember. Lunch the day before they left Earth for Atlantis, maybe. He'd been so busy he hadn't even paid much attention to what he was eating, just grabbed whatever was left in the SGC's mess and wolfed it down while he was working. It seems criminal, now, that he didn't savor what might have been his last-ever apple.

"C'mon, have one," Sheppard says. He searches around on the ground and selects another fruit, which he rubs on his jacket before handing it to Rodney. "Eating windfall won't kill you."

"I like to assume everything will kill me until offered proof to the contrary," Rodney tells him, but he finds himself accepting the not-apple from Sheppard.

He takes a bite and has to stop himself making a little noise of pleasure because, God, it really does taste exactly like a fresh, green apple, his favorite kind. He closes his eyes to concentrate better on the experience of eating it. The juice is just the right balance between sweet and tart, the flesh firm as he crunches into it. For a second, just a second, he's back on Earth, in an orchard in late September, and that's when it hits him that they really might never find the ZPM they need to open a Gate back home, that this might be the closest he comes to an apple again in his life.

"McKay?" Sheppard says, breaking into his thoughts. When Rodney opens his eyes, Sheppard is looking at him anxiously. "Oh, Christ, are you about to have an allergic reaction?"

"Citrus," Rodney says irritably. "I keep telling you people, it's _citrus_." He looks down at the apple core in his hand. "No, I just -- a taste of home, you know?"

Sheppard just nods, and Rodney realizes that he does know, that he must have felt something the same when he bit into the fruit, and that he wanted -- maybe needed -- to share that feeling with someone else. Slowly, Rodney is starting to realize that when Sheppard really wants to say something, it doesn't come out as words, but in the form of an action or a gesture or something tangible, like the piece of fruit he's holding. It's not Rodney's way of communicating, but he thinks he is starting to understand it. He thinks maybe he and Sheppard are starting to understand each other.

Then Sheppard leans down and starts gathering up pieces of fruit from where they've fallen on the ground, to take back with them. Wordlessly, Rodney bends down to help him.


End file.
